


Fanboy

by Fanforthefics (StormDancer)



Series: Hockey Tumblr Oneshots [29]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), Alternate Universe - Teachers, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/Fanforthefics
Summary: So maybe Barrie plays pretty hockey and is cute and solid in a way that makes Gabe want to mess up and is even cuter and snarkier and funnier in person and always picks up his daughter from school when he’s home and doesn’t have a game and is, Gabe found out after some guilty googling, single. That has nothing to do with Gabe making sure he looks good.





	Fanboy

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: teacher/single parent AU
> 
> Don't know, don't own, etc

“What are you doing?” 

Gabe doesn’t jump, thank you very much; he just wasn’t expecting EJ to come into his classroom without knocking. Which was probably his first mistake. 

“Nothing.” 

“Do you just stand around staring into mirrors when the kids aren’t here?” EJ asks, perching on Gabe’s desk. 

“No,” Gabe retorts. He steps back from the mirror after one more shake of his head, then turns to glare at EJ properly. “I was just checking that I didn’t have any paint on me.” 

“Uh-huh.” EJ raises his eyebrows. “It’s last period. No one’s here to see you after this.” 

“No one,” Gabe agrees, glancing at the clock over EJ’s shoulder. Five minutes to the end of the kids’ arts period. Ten minutes to the end of school. 

“And if you were really worried, you’d have checked at the beginning of your free period,” EJ goes on, thoughtfully. 

“Get to your point,” Gabe snaps. Four minutes. He needs EJ out by then. 

EJ follows his look over his shoulder at the clock, then grins and pulls out his phone. “What are you doing?” Gabe demands. He doesn’t trust EJ even a little. 

“Checking NHL schedules,” EJ says. He’s not actually pressing any buttons on his phone. “Avs are home and don’t have a game, do they?” 

“Maybe. I don’t know.” 

“And it’s a Wednesday,” EJ goes on, still doing that stupid smirk. “Which means…” 

“It means nothing.” 

“And has nothing to do with a certain defenseman whose daughter is in your class?” 

“Cecy’s a great kid,” Gabe says, trying for calm. Three minutes. At least when the kids come back, EJ will have to leave. Or shut up. 

“With a father who you think is–” 

“He’s a good player,” Gabe interrupts, before EJ can go into exactly what Gabe has said about Tyson Barrie when he’s drunk and an Avs game happens to come on. So maybe he plays pretty hockey and is cute and solid in a way that makes Gabe want to mess up and is even cuter and snarkier and funnier in person and always picks up his daughter from school when he’s home and doesn’t have a game and is, Gabe found out after some guilty googling, single. That has nothing to do with Gabe making sure he looks good. “And a good dad.” 

“And that’s why you’re preening.” 

“I’m not preening.” 

“You’ve got a hair out of place.” 

“I don’t!” But Gabe glances at the mirror again, and ignores EJ’s laughter. So he wants to look good. That’s not a crime. 

“Don’t worry,” EJ says, somehow still intelligible through his laughter. “You’re still very pretty.” 

“Excuse me, I am the prettiest,” Gabe informs him. One minute. “And it has nothing to do with Tyson Barrie.” He pauses. “He’s not behind me or anything, is he?” 

“No, unfortunately,” EJ shakes his head. “But you know, the school year’s almost over.” 

“Yeah, I noticed.” 

“And that means his daughter won’t be in your class anymore.” 

“That is how school years work, yeah.” 

“So are you going to ask him out, then?” 

Gabe snorts. “Yeah, sure, I’ll just ask out the NHL player. Who has a daughter. With a woman.” 

“Have you heard his interviews? That man is not straight.” 

“EJ.”

“Fine, I’m not speculating or anything.” EJ holds up his hands. “Just saying. You’ll have nothing to lose.” 

“Cecy’s still in my class, I can’t think about that now,” Gabe informs him. There are things EJ doesn’t need to know. Like all his silly daydreams about the dates he’d take Tyson out on. But he’s right, too. As long as his daughter’s in his class, Gabe shouldn’t be thinking about that. And yeah, his interviews are–well, Gabe might daydream about what they mean–but Tyson’s never been connected with a man in his career, and Gabe’s not going to define him. 

EJ snorts. “You definitely aren’t thinking about anything, for sure.” 

“I–” The bell rings, and Gabe straightens, checks his hair one last time. “You’ve got to go.” 

“But I want to watch! I–”

“Out,” Gabe orders, and EJ sighs and goes. He pauses at the door. 

“Three months,” he points out. 

“Out!” Gabe repeats, and EJ goes as the kids stream back in and back to their desks, gathering up their stuff, and then it’s the usual chaos of getting the bus line sorted out as the kids whose parents pick them up wait. Getting everyone sorted actually does distract Gabe, until he straightens up from making sure Matt’s shoes are properly tied and there he is, helping his daughter put her jacket on. 

Really, it’s Gabe’s job to check in with the parents. That’s why he goes over to them. “Hi,” he says, and Tyson jumps and makes a noise that is clearly biting down on a swearword. 

“Oh, f–hi!” he says, with a guilty look at his daughter, who Gabe is certain has heard worse. “You’re here. Mr. Landeskog. Hi.” 

“You said that already,” Cecy points out. She’s a cute kid, with Tyson’s smile and curls and her mother’s eyes and build and snark that could have come from either of them, probably. 

“Yes, thank you, Ceec.” Tyson ruffles her hair. His cheeks are a little red. “Let’s definitely talk about how much of a mess daddy is, that sounds great.” 

“I’ve seen worse,” Gabe puts in. 

“Yeah, but maybe I’d like not to be in the bottom half of the messes you’ve seen,” Tyson tells him with a wry smile. “Just so I have some dignity left to keep me warm at night.” 

Gabe bites his lip on the offer to keep him warm at night. 

“Anyway,” Tyson goes on. “So. How’s Cecy been? Making trouble?” 

“No!” Cecy protest. “I was good. Right, Mr. Landeskog? I’ve been good?”

“Eh…” Gabe wiggles his hand, and she gives the most betrayed look Gabe’s ever seen. 

“No! That’s not true.” 

Tyson tilts his head at Gabe. “Hm. I don’t know…” 

“Daddy,” she whines, and Tyson laughs. 

“Yeah, of course. I guess I trust you more than Mr. Landeskog.” 

“I’m hurt,” Gabe tells him, and Tyson grins. 

“Well, if she’s been good, we can get ice cream.” 

“I see. So it’s an ulterior motive?” 

“Always. Because ice cream is…” he looks at Cecy expectantly, and she recites, 

“Definitely one hundred percent in daddy’s diet plan.” 

“That’s right.” He holds up his hand, and Cecy smacks it in a high five. “Okay, you good to go?” 

“Yeah–Cara!” Cecy yells, and then darts away to her friend, who’s talking to her mom. Tyson laughs, shakes his head. 

“Good thing I’m not in a hurry.” 

“Yeah.” Gabe nods. “That was a good game last night.” 

“You watched?” Tyson’s eyes go wide, then he keeps going. “I mean, of course you watched, you’ve said you’re a hockey fan before, but it could have been the SHL or something else in Europe, and even in Denver a lot of people keep to the hometown teams, and–” 

“I watched,” Gabe interrupts. “That was a nice goal in the second.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

“And a good post-game interview,” Gabe goes on, and Tyson groans and glares. “You watched that? Come on, that’s not fair.” 

“How many years of interviews have you given?” 

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask a boy his age,” Tyson retorts, then adds. “And here I thought maybe I had some dignity left.” 

“Dignity’s overrated.” 

“Easy for you to say, you look like a Disney prince had a baby with a Norse god even after a day of dealing with third graders.” Gabe refuses to have a reaction over that. Or at least, not until he has some privacy. “Some of us don’t have that luxury.” 

“You seem to get by all right,” Gabe points out. 

“Yeah, it’s amazing what an NHL salary will do,” Gabe bites down on the definitely inappropriate things he could say about how little an NHL salary would matter to the right person. Who would care about how he’s cute and funny and a great dad and is standing right in front of him. “Which is definitely not what you are here to talk about, right, that’s probably some sort of harassment, sorry, I’ll shut up.” 

“It’s fine,” Gabe says, quickly. “I don’t mind.” 

“You’re the only one, then. I think even Nate–my best friend–”

“Yes, I know who Nate Mackinnon is.”  

“Well I didn’t know! Maybe you only happened to watch yesterday’s game. Maybe you live under a rock and don’t know who Nate Mackinnon is. I don’t know the secret life of teachers.”

“Well, we don’t disappear when school’s over.” 

“Yeah, that was a revelation,” Tyson agrees. “First time I saw a teacher in the grocery store I ran and hid behind a pyramid of chicken soup, and then i knocked it over and almost got a concussion.” Gabe can’t help bursting out laughing. Tyson shakes his head, looking rueful but also amused. Of course he’s charmingly self-deprecating. “Now I get that feeling with coaches.” 

“They can’t be that much older than you.” 

“Are you calling me old, Mr. Landeskog?” Tyson retorts, stressing the ‘mister.’ “Because I’ve got an entire hockey locker room who can vouch for the fact that I’ve never grown up.”

“Well, I’ve seen Cecy’s registration forms, Mr. Barrie,” Gabe replies, smirking. 

Tyson makes a face. “Ugh. Please no Mr. Barrie.” 

“Is that your dad?” 

“No, that’s the front office whenever they’re pissed at me. Or my agent, which is worse. I mean, the front office can fire me, but my agent can really fuck me over.” 

“You’ve played in the same town for most of your career.” 

Tyson’s eyebrows go up. “Which you know?” he asks. “Are you a fan, Mr. Landeskog?” 

“I told you I watched your game,” Gabe tells him, willing down the blush he knows is coming. 

“Yeah, but there are fans and there are  _fans_. I knew you were a fan, but that’s different from being a  _fan_ and knowing player histories. Especially mine, I mean. There are people who know Nate’s name, and then there are people who know my name, eh?” Tyson grins. “So are you a  _fan_?” 

Gabe glances around, but Tyson grinning at him and fuck it, there are only a few months left of school. He can do this much. “Maybe I’m just a fan of yours.” 

Tyson’s face goes red, and his mouth does something that doesn’t make noise but does make Gabe have to concentrate not to look at his lips. “Well, then you’re one of the only ones,” he finally comes to the conclusion. “But I’m glad to have one, at least. And one like you.” 

“Like me?” 

“You know, a fu–freaking–prince.” Tyson glances up at him, and Gabe is definitely not imagining that look. He wasn’t going to speculate about interviews, but he knows what it looks like when he’s being checked out. “Could do worse, I guess.” 

“I’m flattered,” Gabe retorts, and opens his mouth to say more, but then–

“Dad!” Tyson’s hit with four feet of eight year old. “Can we get ice cream now? Can Cara come?” 

Tyson’s focus immediately shifts, but his ears are still red. “Did Cara’s mom say she could?” he asks. 

“Yes!” Cecy insists, stomping her foot. “Da-ad, let’s go!” 

“Duty calls,” Gabe tells him, and Tyson looks at him, sidelong. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess it does. It was nice talking to you, Mr. Landeskog. I mean, it always is, but it was especially nice today. Not for any particular reason. Just because–”

“Dad!” 

“Yeah, right.” Tyson runs a hand through his hair. “See you later.” 

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees, and watches as they go, Tyson’s hand slipping easily into his daughter’s. 

He waits until they’re out of the room before he fist pumps, because he has that much dignity at least. 

///

“Congratulations.” 

“Oh, shit.” Tyson nearly drops his bottle of water, juggles it a little, but manages to catch it. “Oh, shit,” he repeats.

“It’s okay, I know you’re not smooth,” Gabe manages not to laugh as he slides into place next to Tyson and the big blonde guy next to him who is definitely Nate Mackinnon. 

Tyson makes a face at him. “I’m a professional athlete, I’m usually at least coordinated.” 

“Didn’t you break your leg off the rink at Worlds a few years ago?”

“Yes, and no one knows why–no one,” Tyson stresses, stabbing a finger at his friend, who’s laughing behind his hand. “No one, Nate, shut up.” 

“Shutting up.” Nate holds up his hands, then looks at Gabe, definitely sizing him up. Gabe lets him, meets his eyes squarely. “So you’re the famous Mr. Landeskog?” 

“Nate!” Tyson groans, elbowing him. Gabe can’t help but grin. He was pretty sure he wasn’t reading this wrong, but this sort of confirmation is always good. 

“I think we can say Gabriel, now that the school year’s over.” Gabe holds out a hand. 

Nate takes it. “Nate Mackinnon.” His handshake isn’t hard, but it’s strong in a way that makes it clear this is a man who works with his body for a living. “I’m glad to finally meet you.” 

“And now he’s going to go find Cecy, and distract her for a few minutes” Tyson announces, shoving at Nate. “And not be here. Good bye.” 

“But Brutes–” 

“Not here,” Tyson repeats. It’s unclear the shoving is actually doing anything, given the good six inches Nate has on him, but Nate goes regardless, with a jaunty wave to Gabe. “Anyway. Sorry about him. He’s here because Cecy loves him but I meant to keep him away from you before he embarrassed me. I don’t need help with that.” 

Then he’s just smiling at Gabe, an eyebrow raised like it’s half a challenge, and Gabe considers beating around the bush, doing more of their half-flirting they’ve been doing for months, but it’s been months. “So, as of today, I’m no longer Cecy’s teacher.” 

“I thought teachers were supposed to be observant,” Tyson retorts, and when Gabe snorts, Tyson shrugs. “I don’t have to be nice to you to make sure my daughter gets a good grade. You can get the full Tyson Barrie experience now.” 

Gabe takes half a step closer. “I’d like that,” he says, making sure to pitch his voice low. He can see Tyson’s adam’s apple moves as he swallows. “Maybe over drinks?” 

Tyson swallows again, and his eyes dart around, to all the parents milling about the yard. “You know, there are things I can’t–I won’t be able to do, until I retire,” he says slowly. His eyes are fixed on Gabe, wary now. Serious. Gabe wonders if this is what he looks like on the ice; what he’d look like in bed. “It’s shitty, but that’s how it is.” 

“Yeah, I know, I get it.” Gabe takes the second half of that step closer. He’s thought about that. Thought about that, and thought about Tyson’s smile and how he is with Cecy and his arms and his humor. “I’d still like those drinks.” 

“Really?” Tyson bites at his lip. “Because I’d get it if you didn’t, being a secret can suck–” 

“Well, let’s be real, you’re getting old anyway,” Gabe says, and Tyson bursts out into a laugh even as he reaches out to the nearest flat surface to knock. “And, whatever. Let’s see how much the NHL can speculate about a bromance.” 

“Oh it’s a lot,” Tyson says, but he’s still laughing. “But, then. Drinks sound good.” 

“Great.” Gabe knows he’s smiling like a lunatic–if only because EJ is giving him ridiculous thumbs up from the doorway where he is talking to, of all people, Nate Mackinnon, which Gabe thinks would make him nervous if he wasn’t so happy. “Tonight?” 

Tyson’s eyebrows go up. “I’ve got Cecy tonight. Tomorrow?” 

“That’ll do,” Gabe allows. “I can text you the details?” He holds out his phone for Tyson’s number. Tyson enters it, and his fingers deliberately brush Gabe’s palm as he hands it back. 

Then he pauses. Gives a smile that’s halfway to a smirk. “You know, I can also sign an autograph, while we’re there. Maybe bring a jersey to sign. If you’re such a fan.” 

“I could be into that,” Gabe retorts, mock-thoughtful, and Tyson goes red but looks considering. Oh, Gabe thinks. This is going to be good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to talk about it? Comment or come chat on tumblr at [ fanforthefics!](http://fanforthefics.tumblr.com/)


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